


Could you repeat that?

by TurboFerret



Category: The Transformers (IDW Generation One), Transformers - All Media Types
Genre: Accents, Foreplay, Implied/Referenced Abuse, Jazz is not smooth, Language Barrier, Misunderstandings, Other, Prowl plays being coy to his advantage, Stereotypes, awkward conversation
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-12-03
Updated: 2018-05-27
Packaged: 2019-02-10 03:38:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 13,401
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12903153
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TurboFerret/pseuds/TurboFerret
Summary: An AU where Jazz returns to his precinct after a prolonged stay in medbay and greets the new addition to the team from Praxus. He is also not very good with telling Praxians apart.





	1. Fresh from Praxus

 

Jazz was greeted with a cheer when he entered the common room of the precinct. His rather extended stay in medbay had not gone unnoticed. Closest coworkers and friends had come by to visit him but the ‘Welcome back Jazz!’ party was the absolute rust stick on top.

 

-”Hey Blaster!” Jazz grinned at the tapedeck and clapped his shoulder strut. -”Great party! Ah bet all this had nothin’ ta do with ya.”

 

The tapedeck chuckled but did not respond to that.

 

-”Jazzman! How’s your side?”

 

-”Good as new, how’s office been in my absence? How’s the newbies?”

 

Blaster motioned Jazz to follow him to the refreshments table. Jazz was already tracing the outline of black and white doorwings in the back, following their movement with interest.

 

-”Two Praxies, Bluestreak - Sniper and Prowl - forensics.”  Blaster tilted his helm to the side, while plucking a cube of energon off the table.

 

-”Any Blaster insights?” Jazz leant his hip strut against the table to invade Blaster’s personal space just a little, causing the tapedeck to snort.

 

-”Do your own work, investigator.”

 

Jazz chose a cube of his own, glowing in iridescent purple, his absolute favourite as far as party drinks went.

 

-”Aw c’mon, don’t keep meh guessin’, Ah’m still offic’lly on sick leave, and ah can’t wait ‘till tomorrow, so spill!”

 

Blaster tilted his helm as if he was about to decline but then yielded.

 

-”Blue’s cute.”

 

Jazz mentioned him to come sit at one of the less occupied tables, pushing a bunch of empty cubes to the side to clear some space for them.

 

-”Cute or ‘cute’?”

 

-”The ‘twins adopted him’ cute.” Blaster clarified with a chuckle, seeing the two mechs in question make their way through the crowd.

 

That earned a visor flash from Jazz.

 

-”No way, even Sunny?”

 

-”Especially Sunny.”

 

Jazz released a low whistle. -”Mech, there seems ta be some truth th’rumor ‘bout Praxies.”

 

-”I would not get your hopes up about that.”

 

-”Ah take it tha’ t’forensics s’less cute then?”

 

Blaster hummed and tilted his helm. -”Eh… Prowl is… Prowl, I guess?”

 

Jazz’s expression turned curious.

 

-”Did he spit in ya’ energon or somethin’?”

 

-”Nope, but he sure looks like someone is constantly spitting into his.” Blaster shrugged. -”Either way I have seen them both around at some point this evening so you might just bump into them.”

 

Jazz smirked and was off the bar stool already.

 

-”Well then ah will ‘ave t’go make some introductions.”

 

-”You do that mech!”

 

Jazz first made a beeline towards the doorwings he’d been observing for a while already. Black and white, twitching slightly in a manner that Jazz found rather appealing. Blaster had been right, the mech Was cute though to be more exact - he was a bit more than that, no surprize that the twins were sharing his table. Sides was chatting in an animated manner and even Sunny looked pleased.

 

-”Jazz! Come over, we want you to meet someone!” the red riot control waved him over.

 

-”Don’ mind if ah do!”

 

Jazz slid in seat nearest to their Praxian guest and beamed.

 

-”This is our mentor, he helped us in the enforcer academy.”

 

-"More like prevented us from being expelled." Sunstreaker amended

 

They both had been of a remiss to mention the name so Jazz took that task upon himself.

 

-”’M’ Jazz, pleased to meet’ya, an’ you mus’ be Bluestreak? Certain tapedeck told me ya’re quite good wit’ guns.”

 

Silence fell over the table. Sideswipe and Sunstreaker grinned in amusement, slag.

 

The Praxian dimmed his optics and paused, then cleared his intake softly, doorwings canting forward gently, effectively drawing attention to himself.

 

-”Prowl, actually, but I’ve been told Bluestreak and I look alike. And you are right in that Bluestreak indeed is very skilled with arms, thought I suggest you ask him in person.”

 

Prowl _..._ Of _course_ , Jazz should have expected this...OK, he had messed up but this was not something he could not remedy. Change of modes.

 

-”Ah, mech, ma’ bad! I’ave not met Blueastreak yet and ya both are Praxian...”

 

Jazz stopped abruptly. Oh, great, now he was implying that all Praxians looked the same.

 

-”Not ta’ say that all Praxians look tha’ same, jus’...”

 

Jazz rubbed his visor, where did all his suave talk-skill go?

 

-”Tha’ didna come out well. Can ah’ start over?”

 

Sideswipe was having trouble suppressing laughter. Sunstreaker looked like he was having some prime entertainment.

 

Prowl, however, remained perfectly poised though Jazz did notice him looking at his intake more intently than one normally would. Was the mech lipreading?

 

-”Please do not feel embarrassed on my account also I believe Sideswipe wanted to add something...”

 

Was that polite or condescending? The tone was so neutral it was impossible to tell. Jazz shot them a bright smile.

 

-”Sorry Prowl, but we gotta cut it short, Blue’s looking for us and we better not make him wait.”

 

The Praxian vented softly and dimmed his optics before pinning the twins with an icy stare.

 

-”Do not do anything I would not.”

 

-”That would be boring as slag!”

 

-”If you did not want my advice you should not have asked for it.”

 

Within this short exchange Jazz learned a few crucial things.

 

1 - Praxians were magical creatures of the lore whenever the twins were involved

2 - Praxians also happened to be Jazz’s ultimate undoing

 

The cruel twins had left Jazz one on one with Prowl whom he might have just insulted. Who probably thought Jazz was just another ignorant ‘hexie. And Jazz had Totally contributed to this…

 

Nervously he dangled his knee-strut, searching for something not-awkward to say. Suddenly all confidence and light flirty manner were gone. Jazz briefly contemplated catching up with the twins to greet Bluestreak. Then decided against it. Leaving Prowl at the table on his own after such a short moment would be impolite.

 

So Jazz remained, smiling stiffly. The Praxian sipped his energon, then set his cube down and addressed Jazz.

 

-”I apologize for making you uncomfortable, was it something I said?”

 

 _What?_ If anyone, it was Jazz who’d messed up.

 

-”Na, mech, ya good. Ah’m usually better at conversatin’ than that. Guess ah’ lost mah touch loungin’ ‘round medbay.”

 

Prowl briefly furrowed his brow, he still looked at Jazz’s lips, what was it with the mech?

 

-”I heard you were badly injured.”

 

-”Line ‘a duty.” Jazz shrugged.

 

-”The report said your aim was to observe and not to confront.”

 

Slag, the mech had actually Read the scratch Jazz managed putting down while half-conscious with pain blockers?.

 

-”Yea, initially.”

 

-”Initially?”

 

Prowl’s optics brightened in surprise. He canted his doorwings forward in display of interest and Jazz suddenly felt put on spot.

 

-”Ah improvised when ah saw there were mo’ big bots at the gatherin’ than expected. Who knows when we’d see them in incriminatin’ settin’ again.”

 

-”The probability of you being offlined was 67.4%, that was a high risk to take.”

 

Jazz just shrugged, writing off the Praxian as one of those detail-oriented mecha. Adding stats to his observation was an interesting touch though.

 

-”Ya know, it happens sometimes.”

 

Prowl’s mouth opened in what Jazz could only interpret was mild astonishment. He stayed pensive for a moment before resuming what he wanted to say.

 

-”I am impressed.” Jazz could feel his confidence returning slightly at seeing the pretty Praxian looking at him in wide-opticked amazement. -”You managed keeping your position after a gross insubordination on your behalf.”

 

Jazz could have sworn he heard a noise of a record scratching. Prowl’s sudden twist of conversation made him do a double-take on the Praxian to make sure he heard him right.

 

Ok, so Prowl was the ‘by-the-book’ type of mech.

 

-”Lessay field ops get sum’ leeway.”

 

Jazz stretched in his seat, wincing slightly at a healing seam that was still somewhat tender. Time to divert attention from him lest they start a fight before they even got a chance of working together.

 

-”How did ya come up with that probability anyway?”

 

Prowl contemplated his cube for a moment.

 

-”Weighing out probabilities is what I do for my line of duty; call it a mental exercise.”

 

-”So, y'asess th’success rate o’ enforcers?” Jazz somehow did not like where this was going either. Evaluating enforcer productivity was a touchy subject. It was necessary but if applied superficially, it had a potential of undervaluing some officers who had tougher cases to solve.

 

-”No.” Prowl paused, opics shuttering once more. -”As I said, it was a mental exercise. I normally apply this kind of assessment to cases that need to be solved.”

 

There was no need for Prowl to be on defensive but Jazz was somewhat happy he had managed getting under the Praxian’s plating, too.

 

-”So, how’s forensics lab work ‘n Praxus? Any different fra’ ‘ere?”

 

Prowl’s optics brightened and doorwings twitched just slightly.

 

-”In fact, it was one of the subjects I wanted to broach with you, thank you for introducing it first.”

 

Jazz leant back, just what had he done? Also, why were they still engaged in a conversation?

 

-”Ya sure ‘t can’t wait ‘til t’morro’?”

 

Prowl, for the lack of a better glyph, was staring at Jazz’s faceplate once more and Jazz finally felt unnerved enough to say something about it.

 

-”Can ya stahp tha’?”

 

-”I beg your pardon?”

 

-”Couldya stahp doin’ whacha doin’?”

 

Prowl stared more persistently at Jazz’s intake now than ever before.

 

-”Could you repeat that please?”

 

Jazz shuttered his optics, judging by their previous conversations the mech was not audibly impaired but Jazz had met a handful of creeps in his time and wanted to face it head-on.

 

-”Can. Ya. Stahp lookin’. At mah. Face-hole?”

 

Prowl pinched his nasal ridge with a huff.

 

-”Pardon me, but your accent is giving my processor some trouble.”

 

-”Mech! Rude?” Jazz got off his seat with a fluff of his armor.

 

It seemed that the Praxian had no trouble understanding That. As he acted adequately flustered at his reaction, doorwings tilting up in distress.

 

-”I did not mean to…!”

 

Jazz paused at seemingly earnest display of remorse. He slid back into his chair in a fluid motion, waving off the protests.

 

-”Y’are fine, mech. Ah sometime fo’get tha’ most mechs here are used ta ‘hexie accent.”

 

Those doorwings settled in a position that implied Prowl was still wary but at least for now the communication crisis had been averted.

 

-”I did mean it though. I find your accent difficult to understand sometimes.” Prowl stated, letting his doorwings slide lower in a manner that made him less threatening-looking. -”In fact, it gives me a processor ache.”

 

Jazz smirked. -”Ya ‘av’nt met many ‘hexies b’fore, ‘ave ya?”

 

At Prowl’s miserable facial expression Jazz vented and focused. -”Ahye meant that yaou ‘ave not met many mecha from Polyhex beefore.”

 

-”Thank you; and no, I have not.”

 

Jazz rubbed his helm now -”Now tha’ gives meh a helmache.”

 

Prowl smiled a little -”To be frank this is even worse than your natural accent but I appreciate your effort regardless.”

 

-”Aft.” Jazz muttered under his breath.

 

-”I’m aware.” Prowl amended matter of factly. ” And I do not expect you to change your manner of speech for me, but then please do not get offended if I try to engage all my sensors to fully understand you.”

 

Realization dawned over Jazz and he laughed. Quickly realizing that probably he was making Prowl think he laughed at Him, Jazz amended.

 

-”’Scuz’ meh, ah’m laughin’ at mahself. T’be frank, ah’ve had a buncha bozos leer at meh in a manner pretteh sim’lar ta what ya’re doin’ now.”

 

Prowl was doing that weird staring at his intake thing again but this time Jazz did not flinch.

 

-”Oh…” Prowl paused once more, connecting the input data from all his sensors. -”I am very sorry to hear that. I am at a loss of how to remedy this without making you feel uncomfortable. At least this evening.”

 

-”Ya could start by loomin’ less. Just ask meh ta repeat ‘till it makes sense ta ya.”

 

-”That is not very efficient.”

 

Jazz had no answer to this so he shrugged instead.

 

-”I am sorry to bring this up out of the work environment but there was another matter of efficiency which I wanted to bring up though...”

 

Jazz vented dramatically and sprawled over the table. There was no way of evading the subject now. -”Fiiine, lay it on meh.”


	2. Conflict of Interest

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Optimus cares, Prowl is cunning and Jazz is not as good as he thinks he is.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oops, my hand slipped.

 

-”And Then he told meh tha’ mah reports were slag in th’ most polite way possible. Givin’ meh all th’ reasons why filin’ good reports mattered in law enforcemen’ effort. ” Jazz threw his servos up in defeat. -”Ah couldna even argue wit’ tha’!”

 

Blaster listened lightheartedly as he and Jazz were headed towards their offices after sharing a morning cube of oil.

 

-”But he is forensics, why would he be reading yours or any of the investigator reports?” Blaster rubbed his chin deep in thought

 

-”OP asked his assistance ta deal with th’ workload?” Jazz shrugged, equally confused.

 

 

-”Makes no sense.”

 

-”Ah know. ‘S like there is somethin’ more ta it tha’ we dunno.”

 

-”Could he be a government plant? I could have Eject take a look at his personal file.”

 

-”Nah, tha' woul' imply we don' trust 'im. Bad fo' morale, ya dig? 'Sides, he’s too good at forensics.”

 

They rounded the bend of the corridor.

 

-”Could be a plant good at….Good orn Prowl!”

 

Jazz wisely stopped before walking into the Praxian and mirrored the greeting.

 

Prowl looked at both of them with a mildly suspicious squint. -”Good orn to you, too. There is an office meeting starting in a few clicks, are you coming?”

 

Both Jazz and Blaster remotely changed their statuses to ‘attending’ on their office intranet.

 

-”Sure thing mech.” Jazz winked at him.

 

-”I will see you there then, if you excuse me I still have a couple of tasks to finish.”

 

When Prowl was out of Audio range, Blaster commed Jazz for safety’s sake.

 

::Told you he is a plant.::

 

::Nah, jus’ a mech who thinks he runs th’ place.::

 

~~~

 

The meeting was headed by Inferno - their arson specialist who also happened to be a part-time firefighter. This meant meant that every once in awhile he would brief them on office safety. Since Ratchet had banned him from doing fire extinguishing demonstrations on site after that one time when Wheeljack suggested they set their energon dispenser on fire by shooting it, these meetings had become dull.

 

This particular one was about how not to extinguish energon that has caught fire by dousing it with coolant - textbook example of how one put a mech to sleep. Though it also was sort of warranted after Rodimus had gone and done that just a few weeks prior.

 

Rodimus - the reason why they were all there - absentmindedly doodled in his notepad.

 

To bide their time Jazz and Blaster traded speculations about Prowl’s affiliations. They spanned anywhere from neighboring precincts to gangs, to aliens. It had to be over short-range though, murmuring would have been disrespectful. 

 

In the meantime Prowl and Bluestreak politely sat at rigid attention but judging by their steadily drooping doorwings even they found it difficult to keep alert.

 

The tactical decision of the twins to position themselves behind the Praxians was paying dividends now as they both were fully invested in the movement of the doorwings in front of them. Following each drowsy flick with rapt wonder whereas otherwise they would have already been in light recharge.

 

Optimus did a valiant effort at taking notes and asking questions but received a mild reprimanding comm from Ratchet. The medic advised him not to draw the meeting out longer than it was absolutely necessary.

 

Probably the only one who was completely engrossed in the meeting was Red Alert and Ratchet; probably  because it was their job to make sure nobody got offlined inside the building.

 

Finally Inferno was done but just between sighs of relief and getting up from their afts, Optimus took place at the lectern with another announcement. Jazz and Blaster barely paid attention to it until Optimus summoned Prowl to the front, too. Now this was interesting Jazz, tuned back in.

 

-“And with this I would like you to welcome our new second in command.”

 

The world stopped for Jazz. Wait what? Was the mech not into forensics?

 

Prowl thanked Optimus and continued.

 

-“As some of you may know I joined this precinct as a new addition to the forensics department. However, I am sure some of you might have wondered this sudden change. I want to be perfectly clear that this is not a promotion." The Praxian paused to let the statement sink in. -"I wanted to know you in a work environment as a colleague rather than a superior before I started with the duty I was assigned for.” Prowl canted his doorwings just a little lower. -”I offer my apologies for misleading you but I hope now you would be more at ease to address me with any issues you might have.”

 

Jazz gulped and eyed Blaster from the corner of his visor. The tapedeck had a little disbelieving smirk on his face. Well slag him, the little doorwinger was full of surprises. Jazz was enchanted; nothing was as interesting a challenge as a cunning mech.

 

::Shut yer intake before you drool all over yourself.::

 

Blaster, always a friend.

 

~~~

 

After the meeting was over Jazz slid beside the twins in the mess hall. From what he knew they were the mecha that knew Prowl better but were probably not as close as Bluestreak - being Praxian and all.

 

-“Soo Prowl was ya mentor.”

 

-“Mm…?” Sunstreaker reacted first, lazily eyeing Jazz over the rim of his energon. Holding the cube artistically between his steepled fingers. -“What about it?”

 

-“How was ‘e as a mentor?”

 

Sunstreaker quirked a smile and Sideswipe slid in place beside him with his energon. In moments like these one could see the striking resemblance between the two as the red twin stretched just as lazily next to his brother and took up the talking duties.

 

-“He’s gooood.” Said Sideswipe with a drawl in his voice that was completely out of place when talking about mentoring.

 

Jazz rubbed his forehelm.

 

-“Real good.” Sunstreaker joined in after seeing the effect they had on Jazz.

 

-“Ah’m guessin’ ya’re not ‘bout ta jus' tell meh.”

 

Sunstreaker shrugged and Sideswipe elaborated. -”It’s strange of you to ask all of a sudden.”

 

-”Ta be honest ah’m a lil’ fascinated wit’ ‘im now.” Jazz took the sincere route, the twins were doubly perceptive when mood struck them.

 

-”Prowl’s wary of rumors.” Sunstreaker axed.

 

-”If you want to know anything about him you will have to ask him yourself.” Sideswipe mirrored his brother’s body language and gave Jazz a cheeky grin.

 

Jazz was a bit envious of how much respect the twins had for Prowl while the rest of the precinct was struggling to keep them in check. But there were several ways of skinning a turbofox so he opted for another approach.

 

-“How 'bout ya two then? How didya get inta th' same academy?”

 

-“We’re riot.” Sunstreaker stated as if that explained everything.

 

-“Yeah, what Sunny means is that we were not enlisted for our tactical planning skills or our way with words. We’re big, crazy and we can work in unison.”

 

At Jazz’s disbelievng expression Sideswipe huffed.

 

-”Hey, we Can when we wanna!”

 

-”Ah’ll trust ya word on tha’ one.” Jazz smirked.

 

Sunstreaker waved him off in a dismissing manner and a roll of optics. Sideswipe continued with their story, eager to share it with someone who seemed at least vaguely curious.

 

-”So in academy we were seen as sort of grunts. Looked down on much. Many riots deserved it, too, but we got in trouble the most.”

 

Jazz smirked -”Naw ya didna, coulda fooled meh.”

 

-”Shut up.” Sunstreaker stated in a peeved tone, annoyed that Jazz had interrupted his brother.

 

-“That’s where Prowl comes in. You know, all perfect student, super smart, top of class, a ‘bit condescending for it. Told us off for doing dumb slag. After that.. We sort of...” Sideswipe gestured wildly, trying to find the right words.

 

-“Glued doorwings together.” Sunstreaker supplied.

 

Jazz winced in sympathy. For a Praxian that had to be incredibly painful.

 

-“Yeah..” Sideswipe rubbed the back of his helm in rare display of regret. -“Still apologizing to him ‘till this day.”

 

-”Wax and polish. Never accepted.”

 

Sideswipe nodded in confirmation to what Sunstreaker had said. -“We were so bad then that if he filed a formal complaint against us we would be back out on streets of Kaon.” There was a hint of past desperation in the red twin’s voice. Most likely the feeling was still somewhat fresh.

 

-”Ah’m guessin’ ‘e didna.” Jazz supplied, trying to move the conversation along without letting the twins dwell too long on that.

 

-“Na, he didn’t. Instead he offered mentoring as an alternative disciplinary action.”

 

-“Wanted us as field ops.”

 

Jazz blinked -“So ya actually ’ave a field op’ trainin’?”

 

-“It’s a mix.” Sunstreaker inclined his helm.

 

-“With twin spark link and all; he thought we would be more valuable. In fact he was a bit disappointed we were not field ops here.”

 

Jazz wondered that too. -”Tha’s generous o’ ‘im.”

 

-”Told you he’s good.” Sunstreaker gave him a predatory grin.

 

Jazz shot the mech one of his infamous smirks, happy with the little pieces of puzzle he’d gotten despite the twin's initial reluctance -”Seems like it.”

 

-”Yeah, he told us we could tell mecha this part.” Sideswipe wore a grin identical to Sunstreaker. -”Sorry to burst your bubble.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Everyone's out to get Jazz.


	3. Common ground

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jazz prays to Primus, Prowl refuses to be intimidated and Sunstreaker has a bad night.

 

Jazz Could just go straight up and ask Prowl but who did that? Nah, it was much more fun to find things out on his own. Twins were tougher than he thought. Bluestreak was literally no help because he and Prowl shared zero prior history apart from both of them being Praxian.

 

This left personal records. After trading a couple of shifts around Jazz managed getting a decent quiet evening shift to root about in personnel files.

 

Sure, it was not entirely legal for unauthorised personnel Buuut.... A little cassette had whispered to him that they were looking for a mole in the precinct and what better way to contribute to investigation than look for discrepancies in the files of the newcomers?

 

Jazz scrolled through the list, he had to be quick; evening shifts were quiet but there were still mecha around.

 

Landing on a glyph ‘∏’, Jazz kept scrolling; Perceptor, Pipes, Polaris… who even was that?... Prowl, bingo.

 

He plugged a prepped data pad into the terminal and drummed fingers lightly on the polished surface of the console while waiting for the file download to complete.

 

Jazz frowned a little when it took longer than expected. This was unusual, was Prowl’s dossier that extensive?

 

Faint pedesteps approached from the corridor leading to the personnel archives, Jazz stopped drumming and very carefully unplugged the datapad before the download was complete. He checked his inner chronometer - too early for hourly night patrol of the office and those steps were too quiet to be Nigtbeat’s and too light to be Sunstreaker’s. Was somemech else in the building that he hadn’t accounted for?

 

He peered up at the vent cover and soundlessly hopped on one of the archive drives. A shadow passed before one of the corridor lights just at the entrance of the archive. Slag that quick mech, if whoever they were would continue at that pace Jazz would be soon found out.

 

There was no time for hiding in vents - too loud at this distance. Jazz huffed and pulled himself up the structure support beam instead. Visor on lowest setting, he leant against the concrete bars, hiding most of his frame within the shadow cast by the structure. If he was lucky the newcomer would not even glance up. They rarely did…

 

The pedesteps stopped before they entered the range in which Jazz could see. He had to strain his audials to have any clue of who the newcomer was or what they were doing. The mech was hesitant to approach for some reason.

 

Were they scanning? Because if they were, Jazz was well and truly slagged. His proximity cloaking was still standard issue, no thanks to Red Alert, and his presence could be detected by fellow enforcers who had a mod of a higher tier.

 

-“Hello?”

 

Jazz swore to himself - Praxians were surely to be his undoing. Out of all mecha it just Had to be Prowl. Anyone else he would have had enough rapport with to let this slide but Prowl was his superior and a hard-aft rule-abiding one at that.

 

Jazz bit his lip and waited, schooling his systems to remain calm. In a way it felt as if he was on a mission all over again. Prowl was another mech he had to get away from - the only difference being that he could not attack his superior in defense. Diversion was also out of question because Then Prowl would go into pursuit mode and those could get ugly very quickly.

 

Ironhide had gotten on their SIC's bad side once about the internal workings of the precinct. Prowl had gone to investigate who was responsible for leaving empty dirty energon cubes on top of the office dispenser.

 

Blaster agreed that it was probably both a demonstration of power and immense boredom. Yet, the resulting hot-on-tracks chase and the standoff between the relatively petite Prowl and heavily-armored Ironhide was something to be saved and savored.

 

Prowl came to stand in front of the terminal, doorwings splayed wide. Before doing anything else he glanced over his shoulder, scanning the area where Jazz was hiding. Seemingly satisfied with what he had or hadn’t seen, he went ahead to check the terminal. Luckily not the one Jazz had been using but if he drew up activity logs…

 

Doorwings shot up, Jazz groaned inwardly, yep, he’d looked at the activity logs alright. The Praxian rummaged about his chassis for a bit and ...

 

Whoa! Prowl didn’t play around.

 

Gun unholstered, the SIC quietly crept along the side of the archive terminal. Doorwings rigid but resting just below his shoulder struts - out of the harm’s way in case of direct confrontation.

 

Jazz had not accounted for a thorough sweep. His hideout worked because of where Prowl stood at that moment but he could be easily spotted if someone looked up at a wrong angle. This meant that he would have to move With Prowl on high alert just below. Somehow balancing over a tub full of scraplets was a far more desirable experience.

 

But move Jazz did, in sync with the SIC below. Treading softly, he clung to shadows, running his proximity jammers for all they were worth.

 

-“I know you are here.”

 

Jazz reverted to religion and gave a short prayer to Pimus. Prowl had spoken in direction which was definitely Jazz-free but that might not be the case for much longer.

 

Then he got an idea. An absurdly stupid idea which was likely to land him into some kind of trouble along the way but pit was it worth a try.

 

He pinged Prowl’s emergency line which he was sure would come through.

 

_::Hey mech, 'm sorry ta bother ya so late but are ya up ta sum friendly chat in th’ off-hours?::_

 

It was comical to see Prowl’s body language in response to Improper off-hours messaging **TM**.

 

Doorwings shot up in indignation and then lowered swiftly, a small groan of annoyance.

 

_::Is this a code name for an emergency situation?::_

 

Glib answers were the best to piss off Prowl.

 

_::Na mech, oh, Oh, aw mech. This ain’t th’ right line::_

 

Prowl did not reply but he did stop and Jazz could clearly hear him grumble _“Idiot”_ under his breath.

 

Jazz grinned and started retreating to the entrance, making sure the shadows still worked in his favor.

 

_::But since ah ‘ave woken ya up, would ya be int'rested?::_

 

Prowl stopped once again and Jazz used this temporary bafflement to hop down from the support structure.

 

:: _This is hardly the time, please refrain from contacting me on this line outside of an emergency situation.::_

 

Prowl still hadn’t moved and Jazz used this to angle his way outside through the archive entrance that Prowl had left open.

 

_::Gotcha.::_

 

Once safely out, Jazz stopped, swiveled around and leant against the wall next to the archive entrance; Prowl was likely to spend some more time in there looking for the intruder but eventually he would go out. Aand, whilst Jazz did not have archive clearance he was supposed to be in office, Prowl, however, wasn’t and that was as good a blackmail material as any. So Jazz checked on that precious datapad in his subspace and waited for the Praxian to exit.

 

About ten clicks later Prowl stormed through the Archive door and locked it behind him.

 

-“Why ‘ello there.”

 

Prowl jolted, obviously surprised, he had subspaced his gun though. Pushing himself off the wall and effectively into Prowl’s path, Jazz used his slight height difference to give him a smirk. Doorwings canted back politely but stayed rigid, indicative of wariness.

 

-“Can I help you?”

 

-“Nah, jus’ wond’rin’ whatcha doin’ ‘ere this late.”

 

Jazz stretched but made no attempt of clearing Prowl’s path.

 

-“ I am not obliged to report to you and you are effectively in my way. Is this behavior meant to intimidate me or is it an awkward way of flirting?”

 

Prowl’s words could give a mech a frostbite, well, no beating around the bush then.

 

-“Neith’r really, jus’ wond’rin’ why ya still ‘ere.”

 

-“If you find your shift so uneventful that you have the time to wonder about schedules of other mecha and ‘comm me on a frequency reserved for emergencies, I am certain I could find something for you to do.”

 

Jazz bit down the natural retort. Working next to Prowl was likely to be boring as slag yet an excellent opportunity to study him.

 

-“Actually, ah wouldna mind.”

 

Prowl reset his optics, eyeing Jazz as he sometimes eyed the twins - in anticipation of a prank.

 

Jazz kept his faceplate neutral and posture loose.

 

-“Alright.” Prowl closed his optics and pinched his nasal ridge while drawing in a vent -“ I want you to study the video feed of tonight’s Archive recording.”

 

-“Anythin’ particular ya lookin’ fo’?”

 

-“Anyone entering or leaving apart from myself.”

 

Jazz nodded, there went his seamless plan. Keeping the proverbial stiff upper lip, Jazz nodded. He had hoped that it would be something along the lines of rewriting his reports, he rather wished it was something like that.

 

-“Oh, and when you are done with that - I want you to look through your reports. I have annotated the places that need more attention.”

 

-“Yessir!” Jazz straightened in an awkward salute and asked for a permission to leave.

 

~~~

 

Jazz could not believe that he was going through the security feed in which he was the prime suspect. Luckily he had been careful enough to avoid cameras but some mech else hadn’t.

 

The frame was strangely similar to Steeljaw in that it was a quadrupedal and rather small.

 

Was that the reason Prowl’s file was downloading slower? Someone was downloading it in sync with Jazz!

 

And if Prowl had locked the door the intruder should have still remained in the Archive!

 

_::Prowl! Ah got somethin’!::_

 

_::This better be an emergency.::_

 

Jazz sent him the snapshots of what he'd found.

 

_::Archive, Now, code yellow.::_

 

Jazz unholstered his own gun and headed down to the archive. Prowl was already there, standard riot shield on. After signaling readiness they unlocked the door, Prowl taking lead and entering the room to stand just a bit further than the doorway and Jazz covering him.

 

There was no movement to be registered, no sound either, then they heard a shot being fired and out of the blue a small rocket went past Prowl's shield and exploded against the doorframe behind him. Prowl grunted, axing his doorwings down to protect them from the burnt of the explosion. Through the smoke Jazz noticed something black and silver whizz past him and into the hall and gave it chase.

 

_::He headin’ to transport decks, Sunny on intercept.::_

 

 _::The slagger Bit me!::_ Came a moment later from the golden riot.

 

_::’s long as ya got ‘im attached.::_

 

This time there was no response, and no response from a bitten Sunstreaker...

 

Jazz sped up and saw the golden frame on the floor, leaking energon from neck tubing.

 

_::Ratch, need ya down by the transport decks.::_

 

There was a ping of confirmation and Jazz knelt by the leaking riot, attempting to slow the energon loss by pressing the cables together.

 

Prowl arrived only moments later, looking at Sunstreaker, then Jazz and rushing past them towards the transport decks.

 

There was a noise of a couple of shots fired and then nothing.

 

-“Prowl?!” Jazz called out after their newly-appointed SIC, hoping had not met the same fate as Sunstreaker.

 

Moments later the mech in question returned from the deck area, holstering a rifle and unsubspacing a data pad. Jazz gaped - first gun, now a rifle, was he a walking armory? Then again, Prowl Had rocket launchers mounted on his back, so there was that. Clearly their little visitor had escaped but the mech was calm like Pious Pools.

 

-“I’m fine, how is he?”

 

Busy with Sunstreaker's lines, Ratchet grumbled but it seemed like it was not the "I'm losing him" sort of grumble. -"Jazz, get a gunrey, Prowl, I'll need you to open doors for me.”

 

Once Sunstreaker was safely in the medbay, Jazz went to Prowl's office. The mech was sp mesmerised by the datapad and didn't acknowledge Jazz's arrival at once, so naturally Jazz went to Prowl's desk and leant over his shoulder to look at what had captivated their SIC’s attention so completely.

 

A small glowing dot moved down the map through the area Jazz knew was out of their precinct already.

 

-“Nice. Tho, quick lil’ slagger.”

 

Prowl sighed a little and pushed away from his table, effectively bopping Jazz in his mid-section with the back or his chair in an unspoken reminder of personal space limits and that Prowl actually had them.

 

-“He has help. No quadruped can travel at a speed of a seeker.”

 

~~~

 

By the morning Jazz had managed raking up as many snapshots of their mysterious visitor as possible. On his way to Prowl’s office he did a small detour through medbay to see if Sunstreaker was in any state to tell them anything.

 

Sideswipe and Bluestreak were already hovering in the corridor at the entrance but apparently they had come too soon. Ratchet informed them that Sunstreaker remained in deep stasis for his repairs to integrate.

 

Slightly disappointed, Jazz pinged Prowl with an unnecessary update just to annoy him.

 

_::Prowl?::_

 

No response,

 

_::Prowler?::_

 

Still nothing.

Oh, this was serious; Jazz headed to the SIC’s office immediately. Prowl Always answered unless… He peered inside and almost laughed, the Praxian sat leant back in his chair, doorwings lax, optics shuttered, a slight snore coming out of his intakes. He was almost adorable like this, such a shame to wake him up…

 

Jazz tiptoed around his superior’s chair and whispered into his audial.

 

-”Pro~owl.”

 

Those pretty doorwings twitched and then everything else went to slag, Jazz found himself flying mid-way through the air and landing painfully on his back, being pinned down at the gunpoint.

 

-”Just what do you think you are doing?”

 

-”Mech!” Jazz lifted his hands up -”Reportin’ mah findin’s”

 

Prowl lowered his gun and extended his hand to help Jazz up.

 

-”Jus’ how long ‘ave ya been ‘ere?”

 

-”Clearly not long enough to teach mecha to knock before entering.”

 

-”Mech, ya know what ah meant.” Jazz leveled Prowl with a serious look and sure enough, those doorwings went up defensively.

 

-”I’m your commanding officer.”

 

-”Yer shift’s ova.” Jazz parried and was met with a glare.

 

-”P'haps ya could go hom’n, recharge prop'ly? Ya ain’ gettin’ mo’ done like dis.”

 

-”An officer was attacked and data was stolen within our precinct. I can’t just go home, Jazz. This is my responsibility.”

 

Jazz crossed arms over his chassis and tilted his helm to the side.

 

-"So ya recharge 'ere 'nstead?" 

 

-"I had not intended to fall into recharge." Prowl amended, looking ashamed of himself. -"And if I recall correctly, your shift had ended groons ago."

 

Jazz smirked, seems like they were starting to tread on some common ground. -" 't ain't only on yer shoulders, mech."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yay! I squeezed my buttcheeks together to get this out before 2018! A merry New Year to you!


	4. Building Trust

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Holy schmeck, this is blowing out of any reasonable restraint or proportion.

In the end Jazz slumped through the door of his hab suite well into the afternoon. Tired and done he switched on the sound system which was probably the most precious thing in his entire nook of a place. 

 

Sweet trebles reverbated through his entire being and he sighed in pleasure, warming a cube of energon for himself and humming to the tune.

 

He unsubspaced his precious cargo on the small stool next to the couch and curled up comfortably.

 

There was nothing better than a good read. So Prowl, The stern, stick in the aft SIC Prowl who also took injuries of subordinates and break-ins as a personal offense. Jazz wondered what else was there to the mech.

 

Jazz turned on the pad and waited excitedly to see what it had managed downloading.

 

The information was patchy but clear enough. Only a single originator was mentioned in his case - so Prowl had been raised alone…

 

Jazz almost spat his energon at the next line, Attended Praxus royal Architectural institute, what? Excelled in environmental planning and civil engineering?

 

Did they have more than one Prowl on the roster?

 

Jazz read further, served, heh, in Praxus everyone  _ served,  _ served as a city planner, shortly after recruited by the Enforcer guild and continued education in Police academy. 

 

Just what sort of planning did Prowl do to be recruited by the enforcers?

 

Calling up pictures of Praxus Jazz frowned and tried looking for any evidence of  _ Prowl-ness _ in the architecture.

 

Na, that was ridiculous, it was not like Prowl would have stamped his face all over their buildings and Jazz was no expert to distinguish the finer details of masonry or cityscape indicative of a personal touch. 

 

It was easier just to plug into the city state archive and see if Prowl had signed off on anything. 

 

Praxus, Jazz soon discovered, was just as stingy with its information as any state institution. Maybe some other time when he would be more willing to challenge the administrative security systems. More often than not, though, a city state institution did not need a security system just because of how pathways for locating information were set up. Even without high-level encryption finding anything was a pain in the side. Right now he’d just go with what he had.

 

-“So lil’ city planner Prowl mus’ ‘ave come up wit’ sum’ brilliant plan an’ exchanged a life o’ comfort an’ s’curity fo’ chasin’ crim’nals on street. Not th’ plan o’ action Ah woulda expected.”

 

Jazz thought out loud, tapping one of the screenshots of Prowl - so serious, somehow both assertive and shy.

 

-“Ye’r not telling’ meh somethin’.”

 

A curious tidbit about Prowl being forwarded to special task force rather than forensics caught Jazz’s optic. Even though forensics was his minor his major, with a couple of other students, had been tactical preparations. At the very bottom of the document, almost as a postscript stood Prowl’s TacNet compatibility score.

 

A score of 77.3/100 gave Jazz no way of interpreting it without knowing the scores of other students. But he guessed that it was important enough to be included in a personnel file.

 

Prowl apparently had also interned at Cybertronian Information Agency. That was a completely different tier than running a precinct such as theirs as a second in command. In short - Prowl was overqualified for his current position.

 

-“Wha’ are ya doin’ ‘ere, mech?”

 

He had not been able to download any more intel but what he had begged more questions than he’d started out with.

 

-“Did ya mess up so bad ya had ta go fo’ somethin’ else or could ya take no mo?”

 

Speaking his thoughts out loud Jazz tilted his helm back to look at the ceiling as if it had the answers.

 

The music in his console changed for something more jovial and Jazz switched it off. He needed recharge and to think. 

 

Predominantly to recharge, he concluded.

 

~~~

 

The precinct mess hall was a loud, busy place during fueling hours, especially when either the twins or Jazz were putting up a show. Today it was a performance headed by a boom boxing Blaster, Jazz as percussionist and Bumblebees’ fuel tray. 

 

::Mech, you’ve got yourself and admirer.::

 

Jazz glanced up at Blaster without breaking the rhythm and the mech discreetly tilted his helm in direction of who he had in mind. 

 

Smacking the tray on the table and then promptly flicking it up in the air, Jazz twirled about, taking a good scan of the mess hall before catchihg it again.

 

::Ya sure he ain’ jus’ fragged off by our shtick?::

 

::Look at the door wings, that’s a happy Praxie there.::

 

They finished their little performance and the mess hall went to the normal state of chatter. Jazz returned the tray to Bumblebee and when he glanced up, Prowl was nowhere to be found.

 

::Jus’ ta be sure, we bot’ saw ‘im, right?::

 

~~~

 

Jazz was just headed home from duty when a conversation in one of he offices made him linger in the hallway.

 

-“This is not a military base, this precinct has to remain open to public, Prowl. That is part of our duty.”

 

-“I understand the importance of not alienating the society, however we cannot continue functioning as a precinct if information gathered here is so easily stolen.”

 

-“It might have been a one - off attempt. Still no reason for using such stringent methods”

 

-“There were two perpetrators, Prime, even if Red Alert cannot confirm it from the footage, the spark signature I picked up, even if jumbled, was not that of a cassette.”

 

-“The primary perpetrator might have used that signal to throw you off-track.”

 

There was a moment of silence between the two mecha while Prowl was trying to come up with a response.

 

Realistically Jazz was on board with Prowl - disregarding the conflict of interest he had. There Had been two perpetrators even if one of them had been a loyal officer, Prowl did not know that, and Prowl had picked him out while Jazz had spotted the other.

 

-“Prime,” Prowl spoke again with more conviction this time which rendered his voice much lower. Jazz carefully pressed to the door to listen in better. -“I would like you to confirm one variable for me and I will explain you what makes me think that there were two perpetrators. Is this room proofed against any incoming or outgoing communications - both short and long range?”

 

-“Yes, it is.”

 

-“Thank you, Prime. Now if you give me a moment…”

 

The latches of the office door disengaged so quickly that Jazz only had a click to pull himself back from it to avoid falling face-first into the office. Though that maneuver had been abortive in itself as a strong, white hand shot out and caught Jazz by the neck girtle and yanked him inside.

 

-“Officer Jazz,” Prime seemed equal parts surprised and disappointed. Prowl spoke next with a smile and a glint in his optic that Jazz did not like one bit. -”It is a pleasure to have you join our meeting; it is a shame you had to attend it while standing behind a closed door.”

 

Jazz had enough presence of mind to right himself into a formal salute. Chiding himself for being discovered in front of the door like some sparkling - Prowl was notorious for his quiet tread and ceilings were always the last place mecha looked.

 

-“Sirs! Apologies!”

 

Prime looked at Prowl for an explanation and there was a small expression of triumph on the Praxian’s features.

 

-”Praxian doorwings are sensor-rich and can detect spark signatures unless they are cloaked by the more recent cloaking devices. However this is not the point I am willing to prove at the moment. The involvement of officer Jazz in our meeting is only a symptom of the security gaps in our precinct. Surveillance is not enough if conversations in a supposedly secure room can be overheard from the corridor.”

 

Jazz concluded that this former city planner was a terrible force to be reckoned with.

 

-”This is the reason why I have requested closing the access of general public to this precinct until the issue is resolved. We can have a soundproof and secured office open for visitors and complaints as a compromise. But I am afraid that if we continue as before the likelihood of resolving cases could be at stake - The very reason mecha put their lives in danger and moreover - our ability to provide service to this community.”

 

-“You make your point clear, Prowl, thank you for your counsel. I will have a couple of amendments to your suggestions but I am on board with most of the proposals you put forward. As for Officer Jazz, I trust you will find a suitable disciplinary action.”

 

Prowl nodded and Prime left the office. Jazz gulped and tried to occupy as little space as possible. He’d been chewed out before But this was Prowl and Prowl would aim for the most vulnerable spots.

 

-”Officer Jazz, my office, please.”

 

There was something to be said about intrusive thoughts as Jazz struggled keeping his serious scolded-mech attitude on his way to Prowl’s office while his processor supplied him with made-up cheap romance novel titles of questionable content involving officers of higher standing, desks and disciplinary actions…

 

_ Disciplined by the SIC _

 

_ Hands of the Law _

 

_ Doorwings of Desire _

 

_ Passion amidst Data Pads _

 

Jazz pulled his processors out of the gutter the moment Prowl spun around to face him.

 

-”Please take a seat.” Prowl gestured to the chair across his table, moments later a click indicative of locking door mechanisms was heard in the otherwise quiet room. Jazz froze, usually disciplinary actions did not require locking doors. Mildly agitated, Jazz glanced back at Prowl. -”Do sit down, Jazz, we have much to discuss.” 

 

Jazz glanced at Prowl's doorwings - still hiked high and trained on him. Oh, Slag. He took a seat, trying to act natural.

 

-”Ah ‘ave no excuse ta mah actions, Offica’.”

 

Prowl rested his cheek on a curled fist, doorwings relaxing and tilting downwards slowly to rest safely behind his wide shoulder struts - a sign Jazz had learned to interpret as a bodily preparation for close combat rather than an indication of relaxing.

 

-”I’m afraid that I will need to know more than that with regards to your presence in archives during the night of the incident.”

 

It took all Jazz’s restraint not to gasp as he struggled to come up with a reasonable response, Prowl beat him to it though.

 

-”The truth, officer, or we will continue this conversation in the brig.”

 

Jazz shut his intake and felt his faceplates flush in embarrassment. What could he say? I have a strange obsession with you, Sir, so I decided to collect your personal information?

 

-”Ah, dis’s embarrasin’.” Jazz cursed himself, he Never flushed and there he was, blushing like a newling confessing before his crush.

 

Prowl lifted an optic ridge at him but his expression remained unchanged otherwise.

 

-”Primus.” Jazz rubbed his faceplate, futilely hoping to dissipate the heat accumulated there. -”Ohkay, Officer Powl, ah found ya int’restin’ afta ya said ya were act’lly a SIC an’ not a forensics bot. So ah wanted ta know mo’ ‘boutcha.”

 

Jazz chanced a look at his commanding officer and was met with a wide-opticked expression and sharply raised doorwings.

 

-”May I remind you that this is the instance where your sincerity is strongly encouraged, Jazz.”

 

Jazz, for his part, wanted to find a suitably dark and secluded space for himself to burrow and spend the rest of his existence. Now he was stuck convincing Prowl that he was interested enough in the mech to break internal rules and look up his personal information. 

 

-”Well, ah jus’.” Jazz shrugged helplessly. -”Ya sneaky an’ mysterious an’ ah got a feelin’ tha’ ya wouldna jus’ tell meh if ah asked.”

 

Way to go about clueing a mech in, fancy dates were overrated anyways.

 

Prowl let out a snort, Jazz thought he radiated enough heat for those doorwings to be able to pick up the particles of his shame.

 

-”What did you learn?”

 

-”Ta be honest, ah didna get full info. Download was slower than usual.”

 

-”This is not the first time you are doing this?”

 

Jazz bit his lip, great, way to dig his grave just a bit deeper. -”Ah, uh, try ta’ keep an optic on th’ new additions ta th’ crew. Th’ intel leak was wha’ almost blew mah cova when ah was on  mission. An’ ah’m aware tha’ there has been a leak fo’ a while now but ah haven’t been able ta pin it mahself.”

 

Prowl’s stare could have been laser for all the intensity it radiated.

 

-”So what did you learn about me?”

 

-”Tha ya were into cityplannin’ befo an tha’ ya way too qualified fo’ yer current position.”

 

Prowl hummed and steepled his fingers together. -”Do you have assistance in your self-imposed office militia?”

 

Jazz steeled himself, he did not want to get anyone else in trouble. -”Ah’m th’ only responsible one; ah’ ‘ave had help from unsuspectin’ colleagues but they weren’t involv’d in any sense.”

 

-”I want names, Jazz.” 

 

-”Befo’ tha’ ah would like ta’ kno’ tha’ the mechs ah name won’ be persecut’d fo’ somethin’ they didna kno they helped with’.”

 

-”You are in no position to bargain.”

 

-”Mebbe, but there aint’ nothin’ left ya can intimidate meh wit’.” Jazz tilted his helm and quirked a grin. -”Ah kno ah can be sent ta tribunal if ya pull ya ends right. Tha is th’ worse ya can do but ah ain’ gonna get innocent mechs inta slag fo’ mah dumbaftery.”

 

-”I do not do it because I need your assistance in figuring it out, I do it to offer you an easier way out.” Prowl set his doorwings down slowly once more, in anticipation of an outburst.

 

A punch in the mid-section might have been pore pleasant than this, Jazz stuttered. -”So ya gonna name meh spy.”

 

-”That depends on your cooperation.”

 

If Jazz had been the outburst-type of mech he might have stomped his ped down and argued that Prowl was being unfair to overlook vorns of service. But, that was also how spies could operate, couldn’t they?

 

-”Offica, ah’ want ‘ta help an’, jus’ for tha’ record ah aint’ th’ spy an’ ah wanna do all possible to catch that lil’ slagger. But ah cannot an’ will not jeopardize mechs who trusted meh. Ah will give ya all intel ah ‘ave but ah cannot give ya th’ names. An’, as ya said, ya can figure tha’ out on ya own.”

 

The answer seemed to satisfy Prowl. -”Well then, I have cleared the rest of my orn and yours for our conversation, would you like some energon?”

 

Jazz thought back to Sideswipe and Sunstreaker. They had said Prowl was good, Jazz believed them now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I went for a City Planner Prowl because there is no force as strong as one pissed-off civil engineer.


	5. Rush hour

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The twins say 'No', Blaster says 'No', Jazz goes ahead and does it anyway.

 

Prowl, Jazz concluded, was fragging good. He was surprised how after their interrogation Prowl had let him go home instead of locking him up in the brig. But given how much Prowl now knew about Jazz, no brig was necessary to hold him at Praxian’s beck and call.

 

Jazz badly wanted to hate his commanding officer but he could not. And, slumping on his berth, Jazz had to admit to himself that he had a serious, very unprofessional interest in the mech that was in no way helped by the manner in which Prowl operated.

 

In yet another stroke of unprofessionality Jazz called up an image capture of Prowl and hummed to himself.

 

-”Ah’m so fragged.”

 

A succinct conclusion of his miserable state and gradually Jazz came to a accept that he would not have preferred it any other way.

 

¬¬¬

 

Cycles trickled by in nervous anticipation of a fallout but apart from asking Jazz’s opinion for the new security measures and regular debriefing sessions, Prowl had made no move to threaten Jazz’s position in the precinct. Not that he knew of, at least.

 

The precinct had been mostly closed off for public and Inferno and Ironhide had been dispatched by Prime to install new security measures under watchful supervision of Red Alert. Jazz had been assigned disciplinary action in form of assisting Red Alert in securing the precinct by acting like a test subject for their new systems. Which was a very Praxian kind of punishment in a sense that it served a purpose and added value rather than just made Jazz miserable.

 

And Prowl, Prowl was his icy Praxian glory that Jazz couldn’t help admire, from respectful distance, that is.

 

::Wake up, aft!::

 

In the last moment Jazz swerved to avoid crashing into Bluestreak. Their precinct shared the access to the race track meant for army and Ops and Jazz loved taking advantage of the multi-level circuits and additional installations meant for imitating a city environment such as ramps, ladders and support beams.

 

::Nice save mech!::

 

Blaster, being the communications frame, did not participate in the more strenuous activities of the track and once done, usually lingered about to observe how others and his cassettes performed.

 

::What has you distracted now?::

 

::Has two doorwings and starts with P::

 

::Ok, wait, stop, I don’t wanna hear more.::

 

::But ‘e’s so fly.::

 

::Stop!::

 

::~Ohkay~::

 

::No I meant STOP, ye’r eating Blue’s aft so bad Sunny and Sides are getting jealous.::

 

::Oops!::

 

Jazz finally surpassed the grey praxian, blinking his tail lights in apology. He then accelerated to go on a ramp and do an aerial flip. He transformed mid-air, grabbed the support beam of a ramp above and swung himself onto the track a level above.

 

::Showoff.::

 

Jazz snickered over their ‘comm and continued with the laps - he had about 30 to go, 25 if he used shortcuts. The twins were at His back now, clearly wanting to make him feel uncomfortable for hassling Blue. Fair enough, Jazz concluded, he could make these two eat dust but more importantly - Prowl was timing.

 

¬¬¬

 

Done with their training, Jazz enjoyed the hiss of solvent that evaporated in contact with his hot plating. It felt incredible to blow off some steam with his pent-up frustrations.

 

::Got a minute or are you already neck-deep in courtship plans?::

 

::Ah’ve always got a breem ta spare for ya mech.::

 

::Twins have been looking for you, tought you could use a heads-up.::

 

Jazz entered the drying station and let the air currents blow away the remaining solvent. Familiar red and Gold blobs appeared behind the steamed-up glass of the  washrack area - twins had finished with their laps as well.

 

:Looks like they found meh.::

 

::Need backup?::

 

::Nah, should be fine, if ah dun’ comm ya in 10 breems, search for meh in medbay.::

 

Jazz turned off the blowers and stepped out into a slightly bigger space of the communal washracks.

 

-”Hello tere mechs, good drive t’day. Sorry ‘bout spookin’ lil-Blue there. ‘E said he was fine but ya never know.”

 

Sunstreaker and Sideswipe looked at eachother and after nodding to themselves in some unspoken mutual agreement, turned back to Jazz. Sunstreaker spoke up first.

 

-”Don’t pursue Prowl.”

 

This was so upfront and out of context that Jazz felt cornered. Mostly because it was based on the assumptions that Jazz indeed fancied Prowl and that he was planning to pursue the mech. Both of which were true and both of which Jazz had tried keeping out of the rumor mill.

 

-”He is the sort of mech that crushes mechs like us.” Sideswipe, as usual, excelled at raising self-confidence. And by ‘excelled’ Jazz meant ‘was really bad at’. Still, there was no need to confirm their suspicions.

 

-”Tha’s mighty harsh ta say ‘bout yer mentor.”

 

-”Seen it happen before.”

 

-”Why ya tell meh this now, if ah can ask?”

 

-”You have poor taste in partners.” Sunstreaker deadpanned and Sideswipe rushed in to try smooth over the damage.

 

-”What Sunny tried saying is that we don’t really want to see you hurt and knowing your previous history wit...”

 

-”Och, doncha continue wit’ dat thought!” Jazz did not need the entire precinct concerning about his previous relationships and coddling him for something that had gone gloriously wrong, it was in the past. -”Ah know ah messd’ up before.”

 

-”On several occasions.” Sunstreaker interjected despite Sideswipe giving him a wary look.

 

-”You tried _Boring_ yourself into offlining on one occasion.”

 

-”Tha’ was sorta funneh.” Jazz rubbed the back of his helm, trying very hard to refute the truth in their words.

 

-”No it wasn’t.” Sunstreaker snapped, letting his brother continue.

 

-”You were so bad you made us, scratch that, Blaster _paranoid,_ he Never gets paranoid.”

 

Ok, Jazz actually felt bad about that one. Whenever there was a fallout, the poor mech was stuck picking up pieces of Jazz and trying to stick him together. The last time had taxed Blaster so much his cassettes had started actively shooing away any prospective suitors Jazz might have had in attempts to spare their carrier more grief.

 

-”Guys ah know ya care but even so, tha’s my mistake ta make.”

 

-”You wanted to know more about Prowl? So here you go - you really don’t wanna make that sort of mistake with him.” Sunstreaker nodded in assent.

 

¬¬¬

 

Jazz  left the washracks cursing, it was wonderful how sometimes his colleagues could create a grounding support group that made sure he did not stick his helm too deep up his aft. It was also infuriating when this support group took it upon itself to police his personal life.

 

::All good?:: Blaster piped up a moment later.

 

::Mech, ya ain’ gonna believe who gave meh The Talk.::

 

::I assume that since you are not comming from the medbay it was why the twins were looking for you? They figured you out so soon?::

 

::Ah swear they be gettin’ better.::

 

::You are a bit of a case study, you know...::

 

::Don’t ya start as well.::

 

Jazz was getting more waspy with each interaction. He did not want to be pitied and he did not want to be treated like some delicate crystal bud that would shatter if something went wrong. He was older and more in charge of himself. And finally, his relationships were only his own business.

 

::Ah think ah’ll go to make a coupla mo’ laps on th’ track.::

 

::You’re mad now.::

 

::See ya tomorro?::

 

Blaster was wise enough not to pursue the topic more that evening and Jazz was grateful for it. With most of the trainees gone, the track was quiet and empty.

Jazz took comfort in the rubberized surface of the track under his peds, dropping into vehicle mode and forcing his engine up a steep track which required both grappling and a set of transformation sequences to successfully complete. Redlining his engine only once, Jazz propelled himself up as much as possible and then transformed into a his root mode. His dull fingers slid against the surface of the ramp, but he managed hetting a grab at it and groaned, pulling himself up to sit at the top of the structure.

 

The noise of another engine caught his attention as he surveyed the shadowy structures below. Quieter than that of a usual speedster the phantom noise belied the proximity of the mech. Sooner than expected a black and white reinforced grounder shot past the post Jazz was occupying and took a ramp for a steep ascent to the next level of the course. Jazz would have just pounced for the railing and swung himself up but clearly this mech wanted to work his engine as hard as he could. 

 

Jazz pulled himself into a more compact crouch and enjoyed the view his observation post allowed him. The mech probably thought he was alone so Jazz blended in with the shadows and turned his visor to the lowest setting. It was pleasant watching Prowl uninhibited by the office. The manner in which he drowe was more fluid, he laid into turns more, leveraging his heavier frame to get proper momentum to propel himself out of a tight turn.

 

Sighing, the Polyhexian stood up, if there was a time when he could chat Prowl up - this was as good as any - fail fast, move on, rinse and repeat.

 

He climbed off his little hideout and next time Prowl passed, made a sign pointing his thumb up that was used by the hitchhiking mecha. Sure enough, Prowl stopped, kicked it in reverse and transformed into his root mode.

 

-"I hope you are meaning it in a Polyhexian way or I might have a reason to be offended."

 

Jazz smirked and tilted his helm to the side, hitchhiking gestures differed from Praxus to Polyhex and Prowl had cought on the implication alright.

 

-”Aw mech, no offense 'here. Jus' wond'rin whatcha up ta all by ya lonesom. Who’s timin’ ya?”

 

-”Nobody in particular, the automatic lap counter detects how many times I cross the start line.”

 

-”Tha’s no fun mech, ah can time ya if ya want. Was plannin’ ta do a couple mo’ laps anyhow.”

 

Prowl’s optics brightened a bit.

 

-”Would you perhaps be interested in a race instead?”

 

Jazz smirked. -”Ya talkin’ mah language, mech.”

 

¬¬¬¬

 

Just for the record, Jazz noted that they did race, at least initially but soon Prowl's pursuit coding initiated and all that blew out of proportion in direction  Jazz had wished for but hadn't anticipated.

 

They stumbled into the nearest track supply stall. Prowl’s doorwings hiked high and trembling. Jazz stroked his supple dermas with a thumb and Prowl leant in coser for a kiss. Jazz mewled and slid his hands to pull him closer, claiming his lips and sighing in pleasure as the others chassis ground into him.

 

-“Frag mech, ah would love ta’ but better take this somewhere else.”

 

Prowl ran his hand over the small of Jazz’s back making him arch and expose the soft underside of his jaw. Prowl promptly kissed it, unrelenting.

 

-“Mech, Prowler, ah love ya…” that came out weird but Jazz plowed on, hoping that his enthusiastic partner would not notice. -“Too public, my mech, ah dun wanna us ta regret this next mornin’.” This also came out weird but it seemed to Have caught Prowl’s attention.

 

-“Are you afraid?” With dimmed optics and lips pouty from kissing Prowl was temptation incarnate.

 

Jazz have him a devious grin -“Pit nah! Mah place O’ yours?’

 

They tumbled into Jazz’s apartment after a short ride, engines purring, plating warm. They could hardly separate for long enough to kick the door closed or dim the window blinds.

 

Jazz hiked Prowl up and braced him against the wall. The Praxian hissed a little from the scrape of his doorwings but all considered it only fueled his arousal.

 

Given new reach Prowl licked a sensor horn that lay oh so conveniently close to him and Jazz shuddered.

 

-”Mech, Don’ do tha’; don’ wanna drop ya.” He nuzzled Prowl’s cheek.

 

-”How about we move to berth then?”

 

Jazz caught Prowl in another heated kiss and within a few moments they were on the berth.

 

Wary of Prowl’s doorwings, Jazz made sure the Praxian was on top.

 

-”Did it hurt?”

 

Jazz was puzzled for a moment and then got that Prowl was referring to his sensor horns.

 

-”Na mech, jus’ super sensitive. An th’ way ya do it’s real good.”

 

-”Oh.” Optics dimmed, Prowl leant over the Polyhexian and thumbed the horn once more. -”Like this?”

 

-”Mech, ya sure ya wanna end our evenin’ this ealy?” Jazz teased, mouthing about Prowl’s headlight.

 

Prowl smirked and swooped in, licking Jazz’s sensory horn, effecively turning him to mush.

 

-”P-prowler, Ah!” Little white dots danced before Jazz’s vision and then Prowl thumbed his vents just so. With a hiss of static Jazz whited out.

 

Some time later, Jazz onlined to the sound of running solvent. Well, that had been embarrassing. He looked about himself, na, they had not interfaced. His ports seemed tingly but that was probably because of the pent up charge that did not get released through there. There was a mess behind his panel but judging by his system’s scan it was all his own. Jazz sat up when the sound of solvent stopped.

 

Prowl walked into the room smelling of cleanser and steam.

 

-”Morning Jazz, I hope you don’t mind me using your washracks.”

 

-”Mech.” Jazz laughed weakly, rubbing his helm. -”Ah’m sorry ta black out on ya like tha’.”

 

Prowl’s doorwings lowered somewhat but there was a soft smile on his faceplates.

 

-”You should not be, if anything, I am flattered.”

 

-”Yea, but ya ‘ere revvd’ up too.”

 

-”Already taken care of.”

 

-”Wanna cuddle?”

 

There was some hesitation from Prowl, but he straightened up quickly and sat beside Jazz, running a hand over his shoulder strut.

 

-”Tempting as it is, I have an early meeting to attend. I would love to take you up on that some other time though.”

 

-”Ya mean ya wouldna be agains’ doin’ this again even thou ah passed out on ya?”

 

Prowl just chuckled and bade a good orn and closed a door on Jazz still having a dopey smile on his face.

 

Jazz rolled back onto his berth, the scent of Prowl’s polish still lingered in the covers and he curled up in it, soaking in the sweet fragrance. Realistically Jazz understood that this did not have to mean anything but he permitted himself to daydream a little more.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am pretty sure that will not blow up in Jazz's face.


	6. Notget

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jazz discovers another dimension, Blaster knows exactly where this all will go and Prowl cracks a facade.  
> There is no way of messing up a work relationship more is there?  
> Of course there is.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Content Warning: Some explicit foreplay action in middle of this chapter.

Jazz did not just arrive to his desk in precinct that morning, he floated, only faintly aware of the world around him. Eject entertained himself by bouncing small objects off his helm until Blaster shooed the pesky casette away.

 

::Cybertron to Jazz?::

 

::A mech, ah’m all out in th’ orbit.::

 

::Did you do what I think you did?::

 

::Maaaybeh::

 

Two desks from Jazz, Blaster groaned and finally voiced his opinion on the matter.

 

-”Are you familiar with the concept of taking things slow?”

 

-”Hey, ‘s fine, it don’t gotta be anythin’! Also, nothin’ happened, so...” Jazz reinforced the statement with a helpless shrug.

 

-”I’m not sure I want to know but you will tell me anyway. For now take a look at what Red Alert came up with for our unexpected visitor.”

 

Jazz opened the datapacket Blaster sent him and whistled.

 

-”Looks awful lot like Steeljaw.”

 

-”It’s NOT Steeljaw.” Blaster fluffed his plating out in fashion Jazz came to associate with a protective momma cryohawk. Casettes were not liked unanimously in the precinct, mostly because of their nosy nature and sass. Blaster's attitude implied this was not the first time someone had dared questioning the integrity of his wards.

 

-”Ease up mech.” Jazz put up his hands in surrender. “‘Jaw ain’ th’ only quad-ped out dere. Ah get that’.”

 

Blaster rubbed the casing over his deck protectively. -”It is just no easy to stay impartial sometimes.”

 

-”They be like ya bitlits, ah kno. But no judgin’ ‘ere, Ohkay?”

 

They shared a moment in amicable silence, looking over what Red Alert had found and which data had been downloaded.

 

-”Say Prowl seems like real hot stuff.”

 

-”Mech, just keep your processor on the data we have.” Blaster rubbed his forehelm with a groan, the last thing he needed was a shmoozy Jazz early in the morning.

 

-”Ah am!” The polyhexian made a mock-offended gesture. -”Lookit th’ data tags ‘ere - dey all got Prowl’s ID on it.”

 

-”And How, pray tell, do you know that it’s Prowl’s?”

 

Blaster had made it clear early in their friendship that he did not need a mech-sized casette to run after; so Jazz kept him excluded from his shenanigans for the most part.

 

-“Egh, can ah add tha’ to th’ list o’ things ah tell ya ova fizzy energon?”

 

They sent off their findings to Prowl and moved on to other duties - working on their leads, making inquiries about the city and, in Blaster’s case - chastising sneaky cassettes.

 

The day at the office was slowly rolling to a close when a pair of black and white doorwings appeared behind the pad-shelf like a dorsal fin of a sharkticon.

 

-”Officer Jazz, my office, please.”

 

-”Ya, mech…”

 

Blaster and Jazz exchanged glances before the Polyhexian got up to obediently trot after their superior. 

 

Once in the office, Prowl gestured Jazz to sit and went to the bookshelf. The door locked shut with a click, and Jazz got that sense of bubbles in his tank he always got when something was about to go wrong. Seeing the pretty Praxian rummage about his desk brought up unbidden memories from the night before. Jazz quashed them, very aware of how business-like Prowl was in his work environment.

 

Prowl seemed to have found what he’d been looking for and returned his attention to Jazz. Jazz’s daydreams about tumbling into His apartment evaporated.

 

-”I want to discuss the most recent findings of Blaster and you. I am aware that it is still somewhat early however I have a suspicion that there had been a reason for the suspect to target information on myself either that or the data interference came from you.”

 

Internally Jazz begged Primus to be appointed Prowl’s bodyguard if only to be able to know More about the mech.

 

Belatedly he realised that Prowl had continued talking to him and now was requesting an answer.

 

-“Officer Jazz?”

 

-“Ah, mech, mah bad, went on a tangent about data interference.”

 

-“Please try to stay on track for now, I will appreciate your tangential postulations after we distinguish your data signatures from the archive.”

 

Jazz gulped, that would mean that Prowl would know exactly how Many times and What information Jazz had plucked from the network.

 

Jazz bit his lip and Prowl looked at him sternly.

 

-“Ohkay, how’d ya wanna do it?” Jazz interjected before Prowl could open his mouth.

 

-“First we will go to archives and you will show me how you do it.”

 

Thing was, Jazz did not have archive clearance nor did he should have had the archive pass code. Which Jazz didn’t, he just hacked into the system using a set of bypasses. Prowl watched him with wary fascination.

 

-“Please let me know where you found out about these methods.”

 

Jazz flashed him a grin -“Thing runs in da family. Played wit’ codes when ah was a sparklin’, here were no Otha things ta play with anyway. Ya should’ve seen mah bro, ‘es Prímus incarnate at keyboard.”

 

Prowl nodded as they proceeded to the terminal and Jazz displayed the same adeptness to getting through the defenses there as well. Time logs and IDs rolled out on the screen as Jazz pushed them through the command line. Prowl watched with rapt fascination until the report was done and put on his data slug.  
  
  


-"Ah swear, mech ya got more incriminatin' data on meh than anyone else." Jazz peered at Prowl from the corner of his visor warily. Was Prowl collecting more evidence for Jazz's case or did he want to genuinely know more?

 

-"Well, officer Jazz..." Prowl twirled the data carrier in his fingers, then fixed his optics on Jazz's visor. "...You started it."

 

Jazz thought he would melt into a puddle of adoration then and there or even worse, provide Red Alert with enough steamy footage to establish a steady current between his two audio horns.

 

Prowl was quick to divert Jazz's attention to work though and they both stayed behind late to parse Jazz's access code from their intruder's.

 

Somehow in ways which were both divine and scary, they ended up in Prowl’s habsuite that night. Prowl had explained that it had been his fault Jazz had stayed out late and Prowl lived closer to precinct than Jazz did.

 

Jazz, for once, identified an invitation when he saw one. They were civil all the way until Prowl’s habsuite door wooshed shut. 3 clicks into the suite and Jazz pounced.

 

-”Mech, ah jus’ wanna worship ya.” He lifted Prowl, who’s doorwings fanned and spread out, helping him to keep balance. Even though Prowl was about the same heigth as Jazz, the Polyhexian just could not help but want to sweep the prim SIC off his peds and carry him around. Finally, Jazz elected where he wanted to set his Praxian and placed Prowl gently on the edge of the couch, kneeling before the mech.

 

-“Na, na - no touchin’.” Jazz caught Prowl’s hands before he could do anything and set them to his sides. -”Ya rev meh up too good.” He traced the curves of Prowl’s hip joints and then came back up again to nuzzle softly against Prowl’s olfactory. -”Can’t pass out on ya again.”

 

Prowl quirked a smile -”Who would have thought that you would be so  _ sensitive _ .”

 

Jazz nuzzled against Prowl's cheek and kissed a trail down to his interface cover, giving the warm plating a teasing lick. Prowl gasped and laid back, spreading his legs a bit wider for Jazz to have more access. Sweetly, Jazz kissed the thin seam of Prowl's quivering interface cover. Without more wait it snapped open, greeting Jazz with a small, glittering surprise. He reset his optics, it was a bit tricky to distinguish in the dim light and he almost thought that the mix of glistening valve fluids and small biolights were playing tricks on his optics but no, no it was distinctly there. Jazz looked up at Prowl, who’s optics widened and his features flushed in sudden realization. The praxian huffed and looked to the side embarrassed by Jazz’s apparent enthusiasm over the little trinket he had almost forgotten that he had.

 

Jazz gave a piercing another appreciative look and let Prow close his knees together demurely.

 

-“Aw mech, ah didna’ mean ya embarrass ya. Jazz set the underside of his chin on Prowl’s closed knees and, peered up at his commander and smiled, gently stroking his thigh. 

 

Prowl was much less certain about himself than before, vulnerable. Jazz loved it, loved seeing this other part of the mech.

 

-”Ya cute, ya know?”

 

-”That thing…” Prowl could not fathom what about that thing, which had caught Jazz’s attention so completely, made him cute. 

 

-’S fine, ya don’ gotta ‘xplain unless ya wanna.’ Prowl opened his legs once again and Jazz punctuated his statement by kissing the smooth, warm expanse of Prowl’s pelvic plating and settling more comfortably between his thighs.

 

-“It was not frivolous.” Prowl stated tersely, as if regretting that the trinket was there to begin with.

 

-“Aw babe, ah’m not judgin’. Ya ‘ ave not seen bits o’ wha ah’ have either.” At that Prowl seemed to perk up but Jazz waved him off. -“But later on tha’, now is for you.”

 

Jazz leant down and lovingly kissed that cute, pierced node, his spark clentching just a little at the thought of how much getting such an adornment must have hurt, later payoff or not. Prowl twitched and let out a shuddering vent at the contact but did not pull away or ask him to stop. 

 

-”Too much?”

 

-”It’s fine just…Ah!’

 

Prowl arched gulping for air. Jazz did not want to overwhelm his lover so instead he settled for gently lapping at Prowl’s valve. Giving the piercing an occasional suckle and then returning to his task of melting Prowl’s processor.

 

The mech stiffened slightly but as Jazz worked his glosa to warm him up, Prowl started to move his hips slowly with the rhythm Jazz had set. A few more moments passed and the blushing Praxian propped himself on his elbows to better see what was happening.

 

Jazz glanced up, meeting a gaze of a dazed, revved-up puddle of a mech. Looks like Prowl really liked watching.

 

-”Ya so pretteh.” Jazz nuzzled the white inner thigh and bit it gently.

 

Prowl gasped lightly, though other than that he seemed to be drifting into a world of his own, optics unfocused, faceplates ablaze with heat and features…. completely blank.

 

Something was off, neither of his previous lovers had behaved quite like this. Dazed but not a complete state of dissociation. 

 

So he reached up to stroke Prowl’s faceplates.

 

-“Ey, Ey mech, ya doin’ ok?”

 

Jazz got up to get a better look at Prowl’s reactions. 

 

Whatever funk Prowl had been in he snapped out of it.

 

-“I, yes, yes…. I’m fine, please continue.”

 

There was a red flag if Jazz had seen one. 

 

-“Not ‘till ya tell meh what’s up. Now don’ play coy.” Jazz admonished when Prowl rushed to assure him it was nothing. -“Ah’ve seen terrified mecha an’ ah admit ya hide it well but Ah. Can. Taste. It.” Jazz poked Prowl in his chest with a digit lightly. -“Ya scared an’ ah dun’ wanna ‘face ya when ya feelin’ this way.”

 

Prowl tensed, his façade crumbling away to an angry scowl. Another defense but a much more obvious one, the mech was spooked.

 

Jazz intched away from Prowl’s valve and established a more neutral touch on the outsides of Prowl’s thighs.

 

-“Sh, Ah’m not dismissin’ ya.” Jazz peered up at Prowl again, visor blazing with sincerity, hoping Prowl would listen. -“Ah don’ wanna hurt ya. If this is too much, tell meh an’ we’ll try somethin’ else.” 

 

-“I…” Prowl started but seemed to lock up before he could continue - his optics moved and so did his lips but no words came out. Jazz concluded that Prowl must have an inner dialogue happening that left him unable to actually voice anything. Finally the mech got a handle of himself and with more effort than needed, said -“Perhaps I am… a bit scared.”

 

This was a boatload to process. For now Jazz tucked away the strange interaction to confront Prowl about this later. But not now when he already had all his hackles up.

 

-“We don’t gotta rush mech. D’ya wanna ‘face at all?”

 

Prowl hesitated and that was answer enough for Jazz.

 

-“D’ya rather ah leave ya for tonight?”

 

Prowl shook his helm, no.

 

-“How ‘bout ah take ya up on that offer of cuddlin’?”

 

Prowl actually laughed a little at that - more of a hoarse bark but his doorwings took a more relaxed position.

 

-“C’m ‘ere.” Jazz spread his arms and hesitantly, Prowl placed himself in an awkward hug. Up close Jazz could feel the fine tremors running through Prowl’s frame. Tiny aftershocks and a small, muffled hiccup of his systems slowly settling.

 

Jazz settled for stroking Prowl between his doorwings, making sure to avoid the sensitive hinges.

 

-“Wanna talk?” Jazz chanced after a moment.

 

-“...No.” 

 

-“Ohkay.”

 

Jazz gently rocked the Praxian and started adding up what he had learned that night.

The mech was ok with the idea of interface but terrified by the actual act? Then there was the piercing that seemed like a thing mecha did when they were confident about their equipment and  _ active _ but that did not add up for Prowl, he’d also said the piercing had not been a frivolous act. But why on Cybertron would anyone get a piercing there other than for fun?

 

-“You are analyzing…” Prowl stated after the moment of quiet.

 

-“How did ya know?” It was so good to hear Prowl speak normally again.

 

-“You make small noises when you are putting your thoughts together.”

 

Jazz chucked and pulled away. -“Glad ta have ya back.”

 

Prowl was quiet for a moment. -“Apologies for this. I…”

 

Jazz took Prowl’s hands in his and kissed the white knuckles, effectively getting Prowl’s attention. -“Ya did nothin’ wrong, ya dig? But next time ya uncomfortable, ya tell meh, don’ care what we doin’.”

 

They spent the remainder of the evening curled up together on Prowl’s berth. Jazz gently rubbed Prowl’s back plating and sides, placing a gentle kisses here and there against his partner’s helm or shoulder. At times Prowl would play with Jazz’s hands - lacing their fingers together, then pulling them apart, seemingly mesmerized by the patterns their contrasting digits created.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guess who's back, and also guess who's now a Magister Scientiarum.  
> Cheerios and thanks for reading and reviewing.

**Author's Note:**

> This was somewhat inspired by Brooklyn 99. I get that these two probably were very much OOC here.  
> But regardless, I might develop this into a proper story when I am done with some of my ongoing multichapter ficks.


End file.
